President Warren G. Harding was clearly so infatuated with his mistress Carrie Fulton Phillips that he took time away from his political career, familial obligations, and loving and devoted wife to try his hand at poetry: "I love your poise/ Of perfect thighs/ When they hold me in paradise."

On Wednesday the Library of Congress released its treasure trove of Harding love letters. The collection spans Harding's 15-year affair with Phillips, and consists of a good deal of naughty allusions and sensual pillow talk. The epistles include such gems as, "I feel that there will never be any relief until I take a long, deep, wild draught on your lips and then bury my face on your pillowing breasts," as well as a cheeky offer to take Phillips to "Mount Jerry," a "wonderful spot." It quickly becomes way too apparent that this is not a scenic romantic vista, but rather code for Harding's own nether regions.

The knowledge that our 29th President was a real life lothario and aspiring E.L. James comes as quite a shock. After all, the innermost sexual longings of presidents, both living and dead, have long been the stuff of rumor and conjecture. It is within the president's best interest to keep his private life private; while we may be gifted with the occasional photo spread of Obama shooting hoops with a visiting dignitary, pseudo transparency has no place in the presidential boudoir.